


Shoot Me Where I Stand

by deathbyfiringsquad (orphan_account)



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: M/M, Made Concert Trailer AU, Mafia AU, Shameless Smut, Smut, They're all hot, daeri - Freeform, this story popped my daeri cherry, wrote it for a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 17:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21212270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/deathbyfiringsquad
Summary: “And what makes you think I can’t?” Daesung played along, letting his thumbs apply pressure against Seungri’s windpipe. They were only inches apart as Daesung thoughtlessly closed the distance between them, planting his foot by Seungri’s.Seungri closed his eyes and grinned, letting his fingers hook into the belt loops of Daesung’s pants and tugging him hard, their hips coming into contact. Daesung dropped one of his hands, finding a new home on Seungri’s hip, gripping hard enough to bruise the soft skin under the suit jacket and shirt.“I know you can’t.”





	Shoot Me Where I Stand

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!~ Author here! I wrote this fic for my friend who is a ride-or-die daeri fan so I hope you enjoy it ^^ This is based off of the MADE era concert trailer where all the members looked like members of the mafia, so keeping that in mind will give more context to the story!

It was the eighth, no... ninth time he had tried. Each person he sent was worse than the last.

It’s like he doesn’t care if he fails.

And Daesung was tired, too tired to do anything about it. He watched the clock tick monotonously, feeling his eyes glaze over as the hour hand sluggishly moved towards the two position. He could feel the leather couch underneath him creak and groan each time he shifted his weight as he waited for the clean up crew.

He should be here by now.

He glanced at the cracked Hublot on his wrist. It had broken during the fight, but he had just noticed. Not to mention, the blood covering the glass made it hard to see. It was a favorite of his, but like all good things he owned, he knew that there was always a possibility of walking away with one less accessory, one less shirt, one less jacket in this business. And it was a business, of sorts. Definitely not the conventional type, but a business in which there was a proper exchange of goods for services, albeit neither socially acceptable nor legal. But there was something about it that got his blood pumping. It was a thrill, an adventure that he relished each time he carried out a job. 

The sound of footsteps on glass broke him out of his thoughts. Daesung quickly grabbed the 9mm pistol beside him and pressed it firmly between Seunghyun’s eyes.

“You keep doing that and I might actually pull the trigger one day.” Daesung dropped his gun, tucking it away in his shoulder holster.

Seunghyun made finger guns with both hands, pointing them at Daesung.

“Bang bang.” No reaction.

“Well you’re awfully cheerful today, aren’t you?” Seunghyun twirled his finger guns in the air before shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

Daesung looked around the room he had been waiting in, gesturing to the dead body on the ground and the spatter of blood on the wall.

“Listen, I just want to go home and get some rest. I wasn’t even supposed to be the one to take this favor. You were.” 

While Daesung normally did the more… how would you say… physically demanding jobs for the syndicate, this one had been completely unplanned and on his day off. To say the very least, he was not in the mood to do anything but relax.

“By all means, go get your beauty rest, sweet prince.” Seunghyun gestured to the doorway, which led to a chauffeured car waiting to take Daesung wherever he wanted to go. “It’d be horrible for me to make it worse for your next target.”

Daesung scoffed as he straightened up his suit, fixing his tie in the mirror before nodding at Seunghyun and leaving. He could hear the clean up crew immediately begin to roll out the tarp for the body and spray every type of disinfectant across every blood-stained surface. There was no question that within an hour or so, any sign of a fight would be wiped clean from the face of this earth. It was something he valued highly in his syndicate. That, and the efficiency of favors executed under his control.

The black car sat off to the side of the house, the tinted windows revealing nothing under the moonlit sky. Something felt off, but Daesung couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He couldn’t tell if it was his intuition or just a side effect of not sleeping for over 30-some hours.

But as he began to slide into the back seat of the car, he knew that he was in for a long night. Before Daesung could attack the driver, the person in the passenger seat knocked him unconscious and quickly tied up his hands before telling the driver to speed away.

_____

Cold. It’s cold and hard to move. I can’t open my eyes. Or breathe.

The swimming pool rippled on the surface, scattering the high moon’s light around and through the water. Daesung felt his insides burn and crave oxygen. He kicked up to the surface, stopped inches away by a rope tied to his ankles, ultimately anchoring him down onto the floor of the pool. There was no question who would have done this to him and the simple thought of  
having the gall to kill him so clinically, infuriated Daesung. He reached down and quickly began to tug at the rope, feeling around for the knot and deftly untying it as he struggled to remain conscious underwater.

The passage of time seemed to be at a standstill, as if Time themselves were waiting for Daesung to get back to the surface, waiting for him to confront the only person who would do this to him. 

Daesung saw black dots dancing in his vision and his extremities began to grow numb as he gave a final tug and freed himself from his anchor. He broke the surface with force, lungs heaving. Everything seemed to be cold and hot at the same time. Gripping the lip of the pool, he let himself float in the water, giving himself a moment to get his bearings. He knew that the first thing he would do when he got back to the warehouse the following day would be to kill the double agent driver. That was the easy part. Telling Seunghyun that he almost died because of another assassination attempt was another matter entirely. The entire ordeal would be too humorous in Seunghyun's eyes and Daesung knew he wasn’t going to take ridicule from anyone. Especially him.

He was going to have to pay a visit to the person who put him in this position in the first place.

Daesung slowly but surely dragged himself out of the pool. He was missing his shoes and socks, as well as his suit jacket, gun, and shoulder holster. He felt exposed. He felt vulnerable. 

But the sheer thought of feeling vulnerable ate at his insides. 

He staggered over to the house of the swimming pool. There was a faint light emanating from the second floor. The best chance he had was to sneak into the house and grab whatever he could and make a run for it. Although he knew he could easily take out the goons sent to deal with him, Daesung knew how to pick his fights. He would only be wasting his energy.

Daesung stared at the window, making sure that there was no movement before trying to open the back door. It was unlocked, much to his surprise. There is no limit to how idiotic low-budget gangsters could be, Daesung thought, which he couldn’t truly complain about, at least in this specific situation.

He slid past the sliding door and pattered quietly across the tile floor, slowly making his way to what he saw as his shoes and gun. His socks, suit jacket, and holster were nowhere to be seen. But finding even that much was enough for Daesung.

Grabbing his belongings, he made his way back out to the pool side and slipped on his shoes. The wind was kicking up and clearing Daesung’s head with each passing minute when he heard the car first. It was quiet, but unmistakably a vehicle driving up the road. The curtains on the top floor of the house began to flutter as one of the hitmen opened it to see Daesung jumping over the top of the fence and sprinting down the hill.

“He’s on the run. Send the dogs.”

Daesung looked straight forward as he sprinted down the suburban streets. Normally, his main priority would be to find out where he was and call for backup, but there was no time. He could see the car ahead of him, a black van with bulletproof glass, maintaining a 50 meter distance down the road and it was as if the car was leading him out of suburbia.

There was a clatter behind Daesung as he kept running, the sound of barking dogs getting louder and louder as he dug his feet into the asphalt and pushed faster. His legs burned, barely distracting him from the burning in his lungs. Daesung could tell that he could only go on for so much longer. 

The car ahead of him came to an abrupt halt as Daesung got closer. He could see the backseat window roll down and a hand slide out, a black cigarette pinched delicately between two fingers. 

Daesung didn’t have to see the person’s face to know it was Jiyong. He hated the smell of cloves and hated the smoke even more. Jiyong was the only person Daesung knew who smoked those abominations. 

“He’s running, Seungri.” Jiyong spoke into his phone. He took a drag of the cigarette and held his breath. “Well, he seems urgent to get away from his predicament.” He exhaled, leaning into the soft leather interior of the car.

A pause.

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Jiyong took a final drag and flicked the cigarette out onto the concrete by the car. Daesung’s footsteps were getting closer, louder.

“Driver, head home. I’m done for the night.” Jiyong said, not bothering to move the phone from his face.

The voice on the other end of the line grumbled incoherently, making Jiyong perk his eyebrows up. 

“Hmm…” Jiyong looked out the window to see Daesung fade into a small white dot under the night sky. “No, he’s fine. In fact, I think it’ll just be worse for you.” 

The disembodied voice sighed exasperatedly.

“With all that shit you’ve pulled on him, I’m not surprised.” Jiyong couldn’t help but chuckle as he rolled up his window. The car was turning onto the freeway and speeding across the city.

“In any case,” He stretched, letting his neck and knuckles crack with a satisfied groan, “I should be making it to the villa in, say…” He glanced at his wrist, mindlessly watching the second hand speedily tick around and around, “twenty-ish minutes.” 

The other end hung up first.

Jiyong put his phone away, choosing instead to look out the window as the glow of the morning stretched across the Los Angeles skyline in shades of purple and gold.

Several miles away, Seungri shook the water out of his hair. He was never a morning person, but considering what had happened throughout the night, he was unable to go back to sleep. Asking Jiyong to overlook the job was easier on his conscience, Seungri thought, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t eating at him either. 

Maybe it was a mistake, letting this go on.

He tried not to think about it as he strode into his closet, every drawer, clothing rack, and display cabinet neatly organized and showcasing the most expensive of silks in blacks and whites. Seungri glossed over his suit jackets, picking the one at the far end of the rack; a soft suede piece he saved for special occasions, leather lapels adorning the front and worth enough to retire. That was something he never considered, retiring from the business.

Setting aside the profitability from being in the mafia business, Seungri loved it for the thrill. He basked in the danger, the violence of the business. He made a pact with Jiyong that neither of them would retire from the family unless a bullet rendered them dead, and they meant every word. They were good at what they did, and they did it without concern for others or the law. 

Seungri mindlessly put on his clothes, sporting a black silk shirt under his blazer with matching pants and shoes before fixing the chain around his neck. It was a thick white gold chain that matched his hair and always sat on top of his shirts, never below. It was for people to see and be mesmerized by. 

Grabbing his glasses, he walked into the adjacent bathroom and fixed his hair before walking into the living space. The glass walls hid nothing from the outside, the only privacy coming from the large flora towering over the actual villa, but that was nothing compared to the beauty the opposing side of the home portrayed. The infinity pool in the backyard seemed to stretch on for eternity, before quickly dropping off and becoming one with the Los Angeles skyline. It was the view Seungri enjoyed. No matter what time he looked out the window, it was always a sight to behold.

Seungri went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee when he heard the front door open and close, a single set of footsteps trodding in through the doorway and stopping at the frame.

“Nice to see you’re all dressed up.” Jiyong remarked, snatching the freshly brewed mug from Seungri’s fingertips. Seungri simply sighed and began to pour himself a new mug as he shrugged.

“I’m expecting a visitor later today. You know this.” He took a sip and was assaulted by the bitter black coffee on his tongue. Jiyong tossed a cube of sugar from a nearby container and gave him the small teaspoon he had been stirring in his own coffee. “Thanks.” Seungri muttered as he waited for the sugar to dissolve completely before taking another sip. “Much better.”

“So I take it that you won’t be joining us for the meeting later tonight?” Jiyong continued as if nothing had happened. They walked out to the back patio, circling around the pool and over to the lounge chairs at the edge of the concrete lip.

“I’ll make an effort to try and be there on time.” Seungri sat down and crossed his legs, feeling the cool morning breeze wash over his face. “It’d be a shame to miss this one after I had already missed last month’s.”

“Yeah well,” Jiyong said into his coffee mug, “no one ever wants to be at those stupid things anyway. Youngbae is supposed to be handing out more jobs today though, because there’s been a deficit in the expendable category.” Seungri felt Jiyong’s eyes turn to him. No words needed to be said.

Seungri had been sending members of the expendable category after Daesung, but each time he sent one, they would either go missing or appear on his doorstep in a poorly tied garbage bag. It was franky a waste of time and money, because blood never really ever comes out of concrete, no matter how many times you power wash it. But that was the purpose of having an expendable category in his family. People who would never be able to pay back the favors they asked from the family would end up on this list, called on specifically to serve as cannon fodder.

“Listen, they’re called expendable for a reason and Youngbae uses just as many as I do.” Seungri scoffed as he took another sip. “He isn’t one to talk.”

“I never said he was.”

“Good.”

A moment of quiet. Birds chirped in the trees below them as a faint honk echoed over the neighborhood below the villa.

Jiyong smiled to himself, shaking his head at his thoughts.

“What is it?”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing.” Jiyong rubbed his lip with his finger. “Just thinking.”

They stayed like that, watching the city below them wake up from its slumber, groggily getting into cars and heading off to their 9-to-5 corporate offices. The mugs of warm coffee soon became cold and then empty all together before Jiyong stood up and headed to the back glass door.

“I’m gonna head out.” He stretched his tattooed fingers to the tips of his toes, letting his head hang low. Seungri didn’t bother to turn around. “I’m feeling electric right now and it’d be a shame to waste this energy on staring into space for the entire day.”

Seungri stared down at his empty cup, his finger tracing the rim slowly. A smile grew on his face. Jiyong only ever used the word ‘electric’ to describe his desire to beat someone up or partake in something equally as violent.

“For my sake, please try to keep the blood away from your shirt. I hate washing it out.”

“No promises.” The footsteps fell away after the glass door slid shut.

Seungri sighed, looking out into the city for a few more minutes before grabbing Jiyong’s empty mug as well as his own and walking back into the home.

It was too quiet inside. The clock in the living room ticked steadily, but to Seungri, it began to sound like deafening heel clicks on the tile floor. It made his head hurt.

He went back to the glass door, but didn’t open it; Seungri stared out into the open space, a hand subconsciously playing with the platinum cufflink sitting on his opposing wrist. It rolled in between his fingertips, feeling cool to touch and heavy in his hand. 

He should be here by now.

Seungri let his eyes wander to the reflection over his shoulder, his eyes catching on a faint silhouette in the doorway. His fingers froze for a split second before taking a deep breath and resuming his mindless action.

“I thought you said you were going out, Jiyong.” 

Footsteps, heavier than Jiyong’s, clicked on the floor out of time to the ticking of the clock in the living room. That was all Seungri needed to know to figure out who the mute stranger was. 

“Or did you forget something…” Seungri trailed off as he turned to see Daesung standing only a few meters away from him. He let his eyes linger on the state of the man before him.

Daesung’s shoes were dirty and scuffed, stained with something his years of experience would tell is blood. But as he looked up the rest of his body, there were no cuts or wounds that would explain the amount of red liquid on his clothes. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled to his elbows, showing years of scars from fist and knife fights. The top buttons of his shirt were missing to show his collar, wet from perspiration.

“Seungri.”

“Daesung.” Seungri replied, trying not to look too amused.

Daesung reached behind his back and pulled out the gun tucked away in the waistband of his pants. The smile on Seungri’s face dropped away and was replaced by a focused stare, giving away none of his thoughts.

Walking closer, Daesung let the gun sit on Seungri’s clavicle, the cold gun metal pushing him backwards until he felt the glass wall against his back. 

“I’ve had the worst fucking night, no thanks to you.” Daesung rubbed the safety on the side of the pistol.

“I guess apologies are in order, then.” Seungri replied, keeping his head level to Daesung’s. He couldn’t see his eyes through the dark hair covering half of his face. It bothered him deeply.

“I’m all ears.” Daesung thrust the gun harder against Seungri’s chest. There was a moment of quiet, the only sounds distinguishable being the clock and Daesung’s heavy, but steady, breathing.

“I’m sorry,” Seungri began, letting the right words linger in his mouth before continuing, “that my men couldn’t kill you faster.”

The gun was swiftly replaced with a hand on his throat, gripping hard and slamming his head back into the glass. Seungri didn’t see it, but he was confident that the glass cracked from the impact.

“You’ve sent one person after the next to get me. But they’ve all failed.” Daesung couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “I was the one who disposed of them all. I thought you were smarter than to just make the same mistake over and over again.” Seungri said nothing. The grip wasn’t so tight that he couldn’t breathe, but it was strong enough to make him choose his words more wisely.

“What should I do with you at this point? You’ve just become a nuisance to me.” 

Seungri swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing under Daesung’s warm grip.

“Kill me then.” He struggled out. Daesung could feel the slow thrum of blood under his hand getting stronger. Seungri wasn’t nervous and both of them knew it. “But you can’t.”

Seungri was testing the thin line he was walking. And it was a mighty thin line.

Daesung sneered, tossing his gun to the side and putting his other hand to Seungri’s neck and tightening the grip. 

“And what makes you think I can’t?” Daesung played along, letting his thumbs apply pressure against Seungri’s windpipe. They were only inches apart as Daesung thoughtlessly closed the distance between them, planting his foot by Seungri’s.

Seungri closed his eyes and grinned, letting his fingers hook into the belt loops of Daesung’s pants and tugging him hard, their hips coming into contact. Daesung dropped one of his hands, finding a new home on Seungri’s hip, gripping hard enough to bruise the soft skin under the suit jacket and shirt. 

“I know you can’t.” The sunlight glimmered through the cracks of the glass behind Seungri as he let one of his hands drag through Daesung’s dark locks, the hair slipping through his fingers as he pushed it out of Daesung’s eyes. To Seungri, there was no brown as rich, no eyes as clear as the ones he was staring into; like the summer sun through a bottle of whiskey, Seungri felt in his bones, the depth of Daesung’s eyes.

Seungri let his hand slide down Daesung’s face and stopped to gently cup his chin, letting his thumb run along the soft skin of his lips. Time stood still.

Daesung watched Seungri, trying to ignore how the sun through his hair made a halo around his face. He tried to ignore how dilated Seungri’s pupils had become. He was failing to ignore how warm Seungri’s skin felt in his hands, the way it pulsed so beautifully under his touch. He hated it.

The hand around Seungri’s throat moved higher and gripped his chin, tilting his head back as Daesung pulled him close and kissed him hard. There was no resistance from Seungri, not even in the slightest. 

Seungri’s hands found their spot back on Daesung’s waistband and kept them conjoined at the hip as he they kissed up against the glass.

To Daesung, Seungri tasted like the sweetest honey, like nectar, that went straight to the pit of his stomach and sent his blood racing through his body. He couldn’t get enough. 

They kissed languorously, taking the time to explore each other fully. Daesung broke away to kiss and nip at the pale skin of Seungri’s neck, letting his tongue draw small circles down to his collarbone and back up to the base of his neck, just to bite down and suck hard, leaving a trail of marks across Seungri’s chest.

Seungri let his hands crawl up to Daesung’s body, making sure to run his thumbs over the fabric covering Daesung’s nipples in teasing motions. But the novelty wore off and Seungri went to the remaining buttons of Daesung’s shirt, undoing them one by one as Daesung reclaimed his lips, admiring the perfect way in which their lips locked. Like puzzle pieces, the grooves of their lips, chests, hips, legs, all fit so perfectly, seamlessly.

“Mm-” Seungri couldn’t help but make a noise at the way Daesung teased his lip with his teeth. Daesung stuttered as the sound of Seungri’s moan went straight to his cock, making him grind harder into this thigh.

This was not how it was supposed to go. Daesung wanted to see Seungri suffer under his hand and hear him beg. He wanted to see him cry. 

A shiver ran down Daesung’s back at the revelation. He wanted to see Seungri cry. Not because Seungri was afraid or in pain, but because he couldn’t get enough of him, of Daesung.

He kissed Seungri harder, biting down hard on his bottom lip and making him groan with pleasure, hips bucking forward and inadvertently making his growing predicament known. The slight taste of iron in Daesung’s mouth, combined with Seungri’s essence, made his head spin with desire.

“Oh fuck.” Seungri moaned, gripping the back of Daesung’s neck and making them touch foreheads. Daesung could see the red stain on Seungri’s lip, a tiny drop of crimson spreading across his mouth.

"You infuriate me." Daesung panted. He saw how ruined Seungri's lips were, which sent another jolt through his body. "I hate you so much."

Seungri rolled his eyes and grabbed Daesung by his shirt collar. He swung him around so their positions were reversed with Seungri pinning Daesung against the wall and the way Daesung slammed onto the broken glass made Seungri grin.

"You don't really mean that." Seungri looked at Daesung through his lashes.

"Yes, I absolutely do."

Seungri pushed away from the wall and unbuttoned his jacket, tossing it to the side like a heap of black fabric. They never took their eyes off one another.

"You keep talking like that," Seungri's hands went to his cufflinks and began to take them out, "and the people who overhear will think we're a married couple." Daesung remained silent, too fixated on Seungri's fingers fixing his shirt and pants.

"It would be horrible for business." Seungri finished. This snapped Daesung out of his reverie.

"Business, huh?" Daesung's mouth went instantly dry as Seungri dropped to his knees and ran his hands along the zipper of his slacks. "Because that's all it is…" He meant to pose it as a question, but it came out more like a rhetorical comment. Seungri didn't believe it for a second.

"Yeah," he sighed, letting his hot breath ghost over the growing bulge in Daesung's pants, "business."

Seungri unbuttoned the slacks and found the zipper, shamelessly grabbing the metal tab with his teeth and pulling down.

Daesung stared at Seungri with smouldering eyes, unable to move or breathe he Seungri grasped him at his base kissed the tip of his hardening cock. Every breath and touch whispered over Daesung's skin, making his skin shiver and raise goosebumps all over his body.

Slowly, Seungri let his tongue drag from the underside of the shaft back up to the tip, making sure to catch the pearlescent drop of pre-cum threatening to drip to the floor. The taste was innately Daesung, or at least, what Seungri thought Daesung tasted like, and it made him salivate. 

Daesung leaned his head back onto the wall and closed his eyes. Each swipe of Seungri’s tongue made him breathe harder and harder until he felt the soft inside of Seungri’s mouth envelop him wholly.

He felt the vibrations coming out of Seungri’s throat as he struggled to fit him in fully. Daesung was never one to think that he was well-endowed, but when the people he fucked had to adjust for him in his entirety, it just made his hunger grow. Placing one of his hands down into the silky white locks at his hip, Daesung accidentally looked down.

Seungri looked entirely debauched; one of his hands was working Daesung’s cock while the other was in his own pants. His tongue twirled and twisted as his head bobbed back and forth, extracting lewd noises that echoed throughout the entire villa. But nothing was as breathtaking or as beautiful as the look Seungri was giving Daesung though half-lidded eyes. His lashes sparkled with the tears that refused to fall, which just further accentuated the hypnotized look of Seungri, like he was in a trance that even he himself did not want to fall out of. 

Daesung gripped Seungri’s hair hard, letting his fingers dig into his scalp, before grabbing the back of his head and thrusting into his mouth. Seungri grunted in pain, but neither of them cared as Daesung began to pick up the pace, basking in the involuntary moans and whines coming from Seungri.

Life moved continued on outside of the villa, but the two men inside were suspended in their own world. Nothing would distract them from each other for the time being.

Daesung gripped Seungri’s hair again and pulled him away from his cock after a few moments, a single thin line of saliva connecting them together. It was lewd and shamelessly sinful, but they couldn’t get enough. Seungri leaned back on an arm as he used his sleeve to wipe away the evidence of what he had done, but his puffed lips and red cheeks were dead giveaways.

He panted as Daesung recollected himself, having had to pull Seungri off for fear that he would have finished too soon. Nothing would be as embarrassing as cumming too early, especially in front of a person like Seungri, speaking of whom, was rubbing his neck.

“Was it,” Seungri’s voice was husky and sex-stained, “too much?” 

Daesung looked at his face. The smug bastard was smiling.

“Was it…” He trailed, sitting back and letting his hand grab Daesung’s cock, “not enough?” 

The flesh in Seungri’s hand pulsed hard as he began to jerk Daesung off in grating movements.

Daesung looked down at Seungri’s figure, thinking about how much he wanted to mark him and his black clothes with signs of himself. It would be pretty, Daesung thought, because he’s pretty.

However, Seungri was more or less fixated on the cock he was holding, subconsciously licking his lips and thinking about how much he wanted to feel it inside him.

Daesung noticed his eyes glaze over, and it frustrated him. Grabbing the chain around Seungri’s neck made it glimmer as Daesung reached down and grasped it in one hand, pulling up the body sitting on the floor and breaking his concentration. 

“You’re right.”

Seungri locked eyes with Daesung, leaning his hip forward to grind on Daesung’s exposed cock as Daesung continued to speak.

“I can’t.”

He yanked on the chain, pulling Seungri forward and connecting with his mouth. Daesung felt a shiver run down his spine as he tasted himself on Seungri’s tongue, loving the way that his Seungri’s tongue swirled around his own. They staggered backwards, Daesung pushing Seungri back and walking him to the suede couch and not bothering to look where his shirt landed as he tossed it to the side.

Seungri’s legs hit the seat of the couch and fell backwards, letting his arms land above his head as Daesung situated himself between Seungri’s legs. He ran his hands up Seungri’s thighs as he slid down to rake his nails over Seungri’s chest, admiring the way the muscles under the shirt flexed with each pass.

“Hah...haha.” Seungri sighed, trying to hold in his laughter.

The hands stopped moving as they reached the middle of Seungri’s chest.

“Haha...hahaha.”

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

“Hmm? Ahh, haha n-no.” Daesung let his fingers drag across Seungri’s chest again, making Seungri stutter and flex his abdomen. 

“For fucks sake.”

Daesung gripped Seungri’s shirt and pulled in opposite directions, tearing off the buttons of the now ruined silk top. He dipped his head down and ran his tongue over Seungri’s nipples, making the fair-haired man underneath him buck up and mewl with pleasure. 

“F-fuck, Daesung.” Seungri let his head lie back as Daesung massaged his pecs, letting his thumb flick at the rosy bud hardening under his touch.

“You’re so,” Daesung began, teasing one of Seungri’s nipples by pinching it between his teeth, “sensitive”. The last word rumbled through Seungri’s body as Daesung gripped at Seungri’s neglected cock. Seungri placed a hand over his mouth, trying and failing miserably to hold his moans in.

“And...” shifting back, Daesung maneuvered the black shirt off Seungri and held it in one hand.

“You’re too talkative.”

Seungri’s mouth was suddenly gagged with fine silk as Daesung took off his trousers and shrugged off Seungri’s slacks, his body moving with each tug pulling off the fabric.

Daesung looked down and saw the outline of Seungri’s cock underneath his boxer briefs, leaking from neglect and staining the front of the underwear. He had half a mind to continue neglecting it, but the thought was quickly shoved away when he found himself rubbing his finger onto the tip of the bulge, feeling the sticky fluid gather on his index.

Daesung’s cock twitched from the sheer thought of having Seungri underneath him as he began to pull off his pants, letting Seungri’s cock spring free and lie straight on his stomach. It was also worth mentioning in Daesung’s eyes that where his was above average in terms of size, Seungri’s was above average in terms of looks, by a large margin. 

“Lift up your legs.” 

Seungri listened, pulling his legs up and planting the soles of his feet flat on the ground.

He had expected Seungri to physically retaliate, but all Daesung saw on his face was a look that was a mix of impatience and pent up sexual frustration.

Immediately, Daesung lapped at his entrance, letting his tongue circle the tight muscle as Seungri squirmed under his touch. It was clear to Daesung that Seungri hadn’t taken anything into his person for at least a month or so, which made him all the more excited to stretch him out. Humming, Daesung began to lick and suck voraciously as he slipped his index finger in and curled it against the inside walls.

Seungri’s body spasmed as he clenched down hard on Daesung’s finger, which made him direct his eyes at the new spot of cum forming on Seungri’s abdomen.

“Oh God…”

Spurred on by how deliciously receptive Seungri was being, Daesung began to pump his finger into Seungri, barely giving him enough time to let him adjust to the feeling of one finger before adding a second, and finally a third.

Seungri was shaking after twenty minutes of constant fingering, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat. No thoughts ran through his mind as Daesung kept entering him, taking his time applying pressure to his prostate and making his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Were it not for the gag, Seungri knew that he would be babbling incoherently. It also saved him from the shame of begging, which was what he knew Daesung wanted.

This line of work attracted the same type of people. The type that would get off on violence, blood, and torture, whether it was done to them or by them. To hear the person underneath you begging for more, or even better for mercy, was the best high the sadists could ask for.

Seungri grit his teeth into the silk, near sobbing at the desperation he was becoming well-acquainted to.

Daesung heard Seungri’s breath catch, making him come to a stop. Seungri was shaking with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed. He was deathly silent.

Reaching up, Daesung pulled the gag out of his mouth and threw it to the side.

“I…” He gasped out. “I can’t…” Seungri croaked. “Please.”

Finally.

Daesung slid his fingers in slower, making sure to graze the edges of Seungri’s prostate.

“What was that?” Daesung looked at Seungri’s face to see his eyes open wide from the sensation. A single tear dribbled out of his eye as he tried to form the words.

“Please, h-can you…”

Daesung curled his fingers hard on Seungri’s prostate, making him moan and dart his hands to Daesung’s arms, digging his nails into the flesh.

“Can you…please?”

“Hmm, what was that?.” Seungri saw Daesung run his hand through his dark hair, keeping the locks out of his face. “Do you want me to come closer?” 

Daesung practically lied on top of Seungri, not forgetting to continue fingering him, as he put his ear by Seungri’s mouth.

“Say it.” 

A moment passed as Seungri gasped for air.

“Please, I beg you. I beg you. Fuck me.”

Daesung smirked at the sound of the words he had been waiting to hear. He pulled his fingers out and grasped his cock, lining it up with Seungri’s entrance and sliding the tip into his body. 

“Well why didn’t you just say so.”

Daesung put his arm around Seungri’s waist as the light-haired man locked his ankles behind the other’s back, pushing him in deeper . 

“Come on,” Seungri groaned, “I want you to break me.”

Daesung moaned as he pushed himself in fully, making Seungri curve his spine towards the ceiling and groan with pleasure. It was as if all the air in the room had suddenly escaped and created a vacuum, There wasn’t enough air to go around as they began to move, their hips moving in sync as Daesung ground his hips in deeper. 

The slow rhythm began to get faster as the sound of rustling became the sound of skin hitting skin, accompanied by the guttural moans of the two men unable to get enough of the other.

A fire burned under their skin as they connected over and over again, the jolt of pleasure fueling them to go harder. 

Seungri instinctively reached up and cupped Daesung’s face, moving the hair out of his eyes with the other hand.

“Daesung, I-ah!” 

Daesung thrusted hard into Seungri, coming straight into contact with his prostate. He leaned down, placing his head by Seungri’s.

“Say my name, again and again.”

Seungri wrapped his arms around Daesung’s back, and buried his face into the crook of Daesung’s neck.

“Daesung…” Seungri complied, moaning is lover’s name repeatedly the rhythm began to falter. 

“Seungri, I want you to cum for me.” Daesung lifted his head, placing his hand on the nape of Seungri’s neck and breathing in his essence. He began to move the same hand down to help Seungri cum when he stopped him, bringing Daesung’s hand to the chair around his neck and keeping it there. 

“No.” Seungri moaned. “Just you. I want to cum… just from you.”

Daesung felt his orgasm build exponentially as Seungri finished speaking. He picked up the pace once more and let himself go as Seungri’s back arched one final time, his cum squirting across both of their bodies and marking them as one. 

Seungri heard Daesung groan in ecstasy as he came inside his lover, being careful to slide out so as not to hurt each other.

They laid on the couch, in each other’s arms, as the sun made its way to the middle of the sky unaware of the events inside the villa.

____

Daesung woke up to the sound of dress shoes clicking across the tile. He had fallen asleep a few minutes after he had orgasmed, the sleep deprivation from the nights before finally catching up to him. The blanket on his skin was soft and warm from what he could tell, but he was more focused on the setting sun shining its last rays across the day. 

“You’re awake.” A voice observed.

Seungri walked around the couch in a new suit, the chain Daesung had given Seungri sitting proudly on the collar of his button-up.

“I have a meeting that I have to be at in about thirty minutes.”

Daesung sat up and stretched, feeling the lingering aches of Seungri’s hands down his back as he stood up and began to get dressed, unable to find his white shirt.

“I threw it away.” Seungri grabbed the fresh shirt sitting beside him and passed it over to Daesung who silently accepted it and put it on. He stood looking out the cracked glass window with a drink of gin in his hand, watching the street lights turn on one by one.

The quiet was comforting as Daesung gathered himself and picked up the gun he dropped early during the day. Seungri turned to stare at him, looking showered and refreshed, as Daesung gripped the 9mm and shoved it into the back of his waistband.

They turned to the window, letting the moment sit between them.

“I saw that your watch broke.”

“Your men broke it.”

Seungri smirked and shook his head disapprovingly as he sipped on his alcohol.

“You would wear my gift out on the field, knowing full well it could break.”

“You wear that chain everywhere you go.” Daesung said, gesturing to the metal sitting on his collarbone. “It’s the same concept.”

Seungri drained the last of the liquid before putting the glass on a nearby counter top and grabbing his keys.

“Touché.” 

Daesung turned to watch Seungri head to the front door and fix himself once more in the mirror. 

“Make sure to lock up when you leave.” he shot a wink at Daesung as he opened the door

“Have I ever forgotten to?” Daesung replied rhetorically.

Seungri chuckled, walking out.

“Nope. Never.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Here's a link to a youtube playlist that I made for the story. It's short but it really helped to imagine the scenes so feel free to check it out!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLyvJWV-56KlObLYioYBG-Uf9_BW-BpvDs
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


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